


Need You

by casstayinmyass



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Best Friends, Bisexual Thomas, Bittersweet Ending, Booty Calls, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Drunk Texting, Drunken Kissing, Friends With Benefits, Gay James, Gay Sex, James has feelings, M/M, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Thomas Is Literally Such A Slut, Unrequited Love, but some plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9476171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: From: ThomasNeed youJames should really give Thomas some good advice, instead of indulging this stupid dependency. Drink some water, go to bed, and call me in the morning. James hovered his thumb over the keyboard, typed it out, and hit send.From: JamesCome over.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to 'Why Do You Always Call Me When You're High' by the AM, so this kind of happened because of that.

It was late. It was so late, and, really, James should have turned off his phone an hour ago. You were supposed to do that while you meditated, right? No distractions? Something about the blue light in the pixels waking up a part of your brain you were supposed to be turning off?

He couldn't think. He didn't know what to do, because he was currently worrying over a text that his best friend had sent him ten minutes prior. Really, when was he not worried over a text Thomas sent? But this was one of _those_ texts, and James never really knew what to make of them until it was after the fact and carefully analyzed.

_From: Thomas_

_Need you_

James stared, unblinking at the screen in his hands that was illuminating his dark bedroom. He knew what it meant, of course. Thomas Jefferson was drunk off his ass, and there was only one person he ran to when that happened. He wasn't the type to text about feelings and heart-to-hearts about the struggles of day to day life, so that's not what this was. This was a different kind of need. A kind of need the asshole had convinced himself only James could satisfy, for fuck knows what reason. Not that James was particularly complaining... much.

_To: Thomas_

_I'm out with Abby and Dolls_

Deleting each word, James shook his head. Thomas, even in the wasted state he was probably in, would know he was home.

_I'm sick_

That was a little more plausible, but Thomas had seen James at Maria's party yesterday, albeit for a half hour... He should really give Thomas some good advice, instead of indulging this stupid dependency. _Drink some water, go to bed, and call me in the morning._ James hovered his thumb over the keyboard, typed it out, and hit send.

_Come over._

James' breath hitched, and he tossed his phone aside, rubbing his face and turning the lights on. What were they? Only friends. Just a few hours earlier that day, they had been texting over going to see that new movie, Moonlight, together with Burr and Theodosia. Thomas sent him a picture of his dog with a funny caption. James wrote back with three laugh emojis, and told him about the new book he was reading. Thomas called him a fucking nerd, but went on to recommend another book by the same author. _Friend stuff._

He got out of bed, slipping into something a little more comfortable. As he was attempting to clean the already cleaned place up a little more with a swiffer and some lavender glade, James heard a thump at his front door, and made the educated guess that it was Thomas, throwing his body against it by way of knocking.

He took a breath, and opened the door to his friend. "Thomas," he murmured, eyes immediately falling down the taller man's body. He had a tight tank top on, purple and hugging his muscles. He was covered in a sheen of sweat from dancing, probably, and smelled like heavy liquor and a scent that was just him. James swallowed.

"James," Thomas slurred, and walked forward, draping his arms over his friend's shoulders. His glasses fell forward down his nose- he never even bothered using contacts when he went out for the night, 'cause the last time that happened it left him nearly blind when he tried doing eye shots. ( _Eye shots? Really Thomas?_ ) "Hi." He started mouthing sloppy kisses up his neck. James whimpered a little, eyes closing as he exposed his neck further to Thomas, letting him suck deep bruises in.

"You're drunk?"

"As fuck."

"Right, okay. You're sure you want this, then?" James asked, because he asked every time, and the answer was always the same.

"Jimmy James, I need you to bend me over and fuck me like the cockslut I am," Thomas breathed, stumbling over to the couch and losing his glasses.

Well... variations of the same answer.

"Okay, Thomas," James whispered, "Okay." Thomas' southern accent was much more pronounced than James' own, but it got even more so when he was drunk like this. It seriously turned him on. James watched his best friend strip, ripping off his shirt and wriggling out of his pants so that his boxers were the only thing left. They were tight around his impressive length- the head was just protruding from the right leg of his underwear.

"Condoms are in the back pocket of... whatever fucking pants I wore tonight..." Thomas managed out, "Got some lube too." 

"You brought lube to the party?" James asked, eyebrow raised.

"I stopped off on my way over here at a corner store... probably... stole it..." 

"Fuck," James muttered, and Thomas let out a drawn out cackle. 

"Nobody cares, though. I'm so fuuuckin' rich, I could buy out the whole selection of lube if I decided to be nice and go back..." His hazy smile faded as he readjusted his position. "Fuck, I'm so hard." 

"Shhh, I know... I bet you want my cock," James mumbled, coming over and running his hands along the perfect curves of Thomas' presented ass, "But you've got to be patient." Thomas made a little noise, halfway between a moan and a grunt of protest. James took the time to carefully massage his friend's muscular thighs, feeling the fine hairs alone them and trailing along the smooth skin around his boxers. After some teasing around his balls through the material, James pulled the boxers off, revealing a sloppy mess he wasn't expecting. 

"Did you do this, Thomas?" James asked, regarding the gaping hole he found already prepped. Thomas bit his lip sheepishly, head spinning and eyes blurring in and out of focus. Barely able to string a sentence together, he let out another long-winded laugh. 

"I... I fingered myself in the bathroom of the club... I couldn't stop thinking about you, it was driving me fuckin' _wild_." A surge of want travelled through James, and his cock began to fill out a little more. _Him? Thomas was thinking of him?_ Immediately as the hope entered him, he shut the notion down. Thomas had probably seen some hot shirtless guy, or some girl with a big ass must have been grinding on him, and he had gotten an erection from that. "I..." Thomas continued, a shudder running through his body, "I'm sorry, daddy."

James' eyebrows raised a little. Thomas only went there when he was seriously wasted.

"It's fine... I don't mind, darling," James replied softly, pressing a gentle but firm hand to Thomas' back and arching it for him. "Daddy's got you."

"Shit," Thomas groaned, rutting up against the couch almost as if he was in heat. James, in turn, rubbed himself against Thomas' ass, already hard at the prospect of his friend's tight, lubed up heat around his dick. Thomas was practically whining in arousal, pushing back against every dry hump James gave him, so he decided to start off with something promising. Darting his tongue out, James began to lick around Thomas' rim, and eventually thrust his tongue in, starting up a pace that had Thomas mewling in pleasure. He knew this was one of Thomas' guilty pleasures... he knew it was sure to get him so riled up he could barely speak. He added a finger, curving it so that he reached his friend's prostate. 

"Shit! Hold up, please, need more," Thomas grunted. 

So James kissed Thomas' hip, and stood.

"Come on. Bed."

Thomas moaned in protest, but James helped him up, not even flinching as they stood when Thomas' full lips came crashing into his again. They continued to make out, feeling blindly for the door to the bedroom. Successfully navigating through the doorway without knocking over any of James' good vases, they finally fell back on the bed, and continued to kiss for a while, wet noises of their mouths connecting the only sound audible. Thomas tasted like strong tequila with a hint of salt, and James couldn't get enough of it, sweeping his tongue deeper into the taller man's mouth and moaning. Eventually, they broke away to gasp for air, and Thomas crawled up to the pillow, eyes fluttering closed and hips rolling upward. James eyed his friend's leaking dick, which was fully hard against his stomach, and, in a rush, pulled down his own pants, rolling on a condom and slicking himself up.

"Need you... in me..." Thomas was slurring, "Mmmmfuck wanna come so bad, wanna come on your big dick."

"Thomas," James breathed, eyes hooded with lust at the filthy words, and he buried himself in. He barely waited for Thomas to adjust when he finally entered all the way, pulling out and slamming back in hard.

"Gaowfwfwf..." Thomas' garbled encouragement almost made James laugh, but he immediately had long, toned arms scrambling at his back, drawing him down so that their mouths were mere inches apart. "So big," Thomas smiled, eyes half lidded and sleepy, "Shit... my Jemmy's packin'..."

"Shhh," James chuckled, mouthing kisses along the corner of Thomas' mouth, "Flattery will get you nowhere, princess." The man beneath him's trimmed beard tickled a little, and James always found himself loving it, loving everything about his friend- Thomas' perfectly groomed, unapologetic sense of style, his immaculate facial hair, his stupid long pink coats, his hair that he insisted he washed every day, his Adonis body he worked on at the gym all the god damn time, his quiet intelligence, his _superiority complex_...

 Thomas was shuddering, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, chest, and abdomen. His usually obnoxiously poufy tendrils were matted against his head, drooping from the hot atmosphere of whatever club he was previously at paired with the current heat of their intimacy. James loved him like this; desperate, shaking, wrecked, helpless. It was in this rare, vulnerable state that he realized just how different Thomas was in public- always trying to one up everyone at everything, to compensate for... _what, exactly?_

"Why're you staring?" Thomas murmured, and James realized he had actually stopped his thrusts. Picking back up again, Thomas began to whisper his name, which subsequently got replaced by, "Daddy...daddy... _daddy_ \- ohhh!" He was getting progressively louder, which James knew to be a sign that he was getting close. He could feel Thomas' body reacting in sensitivity to every touch he gave... every small kiss planted around his erect nipples, every drag of his fingernails down the V of his hips. Thomas' penis lay pitifully untouched, so James decided to move things along with a fist around him, pumping him up and down fast with help from the pre-cum leaking from his tip.

"Shit!" Thomas screamed, grabbing onto the headboard as his eyes rolled back, "Gonna... _fuck_ James, gonna..."

"Come for me, Thomas," James winced, pulling Thomas down by the hips so he could thrust even deeper, and after three more snaps of his hips, Thomas was coming hard, repeating his name feverishly as if it was the only word he knew. Fucking Thomas through his orgasm, James couldn't keep his own at bay any longer, and released, letting out a soft cry at the sensation of Thomas squeezing around him. A couple minutes later, they were in the same position, breath heavy and eyes closed. When James dared to crack open an eyelid, he saw that Thomas was passed out, mumbling incoherently.

"You okay?" he asked softly, propping his friend's head up with a pillow and drying him off a little. Thomas' nose twitched, and he swatted lazily at something that wasn't there.

"'mmm great James," he licked his lips, letting out a long, contented sigh. "I needed that..." The whisper came out quiet, hoarse. "Thank you." With that, his head drooped again with a loud snore, and James knew he had fallen asleep for sure.

"Night Thomas," James whispered, watching the other man's chest rise and fall, features relaxed. He thought of taking the couch, but he felt the exhaustion overtake him as well, and just opted to turn over, staying on one side of his comfortable bed. It would be like when they were kids, and had sleepovers.

In the morning, James woke up with an empty spot beside him.

_How the hell did he manage to drag himself up at this hour with the horrible hangover he must have?_

But, Thomas Jefferson was virtually invincible, or so the man liked to think. When James got up to make some coffee, he saw that Thomas had left his glasses on the ground by the couch last night in a hurry to undress one of them. _Still never remembers his shit, no matter how invincible._ James set them on the counter, making a note to return them.

Then the lump in his throat formed, and James found himself crying. He bent over the sink, resting his elbows on the counter and letting the tears patter against the stainless steel, one by one. He was in love with his best friend... but his best friend would never, ever know it.

Righting himself after a good five minutes, James slipped a shirt on, and poured his coffee, starting the day off with his usual routine. He opened his phone, and found a short video of Thomas' dog, licking him all over the face upon entry home. 

_The homey didn't go out for a pee last night, he should be pissed af at me #oops lol_

James read the text over what seemed like ten times... then sent back three laughing emojis, and turned his phone back off.


End file.
